


Lara is Ridiculous

by Imrryr



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: And almost no archaeology, F/F, Featuring Lara and Sam getting all sweaty in a non-sexual manner, Fluff, One Shot, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imrryr/pseuds/Imrryr
Summary: Three weeks at one of Hawaii’s most expensive resorts - a perfect vacation away from the prying eyes of London’s horrible tabloid photographers – so what does Lara want to do?   Does she want to actually relax for a change?  Does she want to avail herself of all the luxuries the Ritz-Carlton has to offer?  No.  She wants to go hiking.And not like a pleasant walk along the beach, or a stroll through carefully maintained gardens, no, they were talking expensive boots ankle deep in mud, hair caked with grime from the howling wind blowing sea spray in their faces, shirts dripping with sweat from climbing countless ridges and descending treacherous cliffs.  And that’s to say nothing of the intermittent downpours.  Lara does things like this for fun; like seriously, this is a thing Lara Croft does because she actually enjoys it.  God.She’s lucky she’s so pretty.





	Lara is Ridiculous

**Author's Note:**

> I was sweating my ass off on Waihee Ridge back in late May when I came up with this. Didn’t have a specific trail in mind for the setting of the story tho. I just made one up.
> 
> Rated T for very mild amounts of kissing n' stuff.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

Lara smiled over her shoulder, sweat dripping from her brow and every other inch of exposed skin as they struggled up yet another steep muddy incline.  “You’re doing great, Sam.”

Sam grunted in response, but it had become pretty clear by this point that Lara was unable to tell the difference between a grunt of exertion and a grunt of annoyance.

In the depths of her foggy, exhausted mind, she pictured herself lying in the damp ground, looking up at an overcast sky, thunder rolling in the distance, to see her parents weeping over her death while Lara loomed over the edge of the grave, still smiling earnestly, and repeating that very same phrase with outstretched hand, ‘ _You’re doing_ great _, Sam_.’ 

Ugh.  She was getting delirious.

Despite a long drive through scenic twisting, one-lane mountain roads, it had seemed like an entirely pleasant idea at first.  They were in Hawaii, after all; everything was more pleasant here by association, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t gone hiking together countless times.

But she’d actually had months to prepare for Kilimanjaro, and for China, and Bulgaria.

When they’d settled on Hawaii, Sam pictured relaxation, she pictured beautiful sunsets at Lara’s side, she pictured Mai Tais. 

Forty-eight hours after landing and Lara was already dragging Sam's unprepared butt off on a hike, and not a pleasant walk around the beach, or a stroll through the resort's many gardens.  No,  this was a true hike.  Like, an all day sort of hike by the looks of Lara's pack.  Every time they reached a summit, or a rocky crag jutting out to sea – all providing breathtaking views of the northern coastline – Sam would think, okay, beautiful scenery has been found and enjoyed, we’re going to turn around  now.  Only that never happened.

The trail simply went on and on, hour after hour, like they were starring in a two-person remake of the Fellowship of the Ring.  Lara would be Aragorn, but sexier, of course - a trusty handaxe dangling at her side in lieu of the sword of What’s-His-Face - and Sam would be… well, she wasn’t much of a fighter, she knew, not in an action-scene sort of way, at least.  Honestly, though she was hardly that much shorter than Lara, she’d probably still cast herself as one of the hobbits: Merry, or Pippin, or… oh my god, _Sam!_

She snorted out loud, slapping a hand over her mouth to hide her giggling.

Yep.  Delirious.

Lara glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend’s apparent mental breakdown.

Yet on they went regardless.  Over the hills and valleys, fording rivers of chilly water, braving the Mines of Moria, and the forests of Lorien… ‘ _The trail goes ever on and on, down from the… uh…_ ’ okay, it had been a while since she’d read those books.

Just keep breathing, she kept reminding herself.   One step after another.  You climbed Kilimanjaro, you can do this.

She promptly stumbled over the next rock, sighed, and dusted off her poor, poor expensive-as-shit boots as she attempted to compose herself.

This was the first real hike they’d been on together since Yamatai, the first hike since they’d become more than friends.  So, sure, she’d survived the mountains of China, and the deep forests of Bulgaria, and yes, the _everything_ of Yamatai, but Sam didn’t know, was it weird to expect a little mercy now that she and Lara were sleeping together?

Like, there were plenty of other ways to get hot and sweaty, and some of them didn’t even require you to leave your room!

Think of the convenience!

But, no, Sam was dating Lara Croft, so here they were.

And unfortunately for Sam, months of therapy and sheltering down in London meant that despite her recent visits to the gym, she wasn't exactly killing it out here.

Which meant that compared to her beast of a girlfriend she was _really_ out of shape.

She sighed as they crested a hill and the trees gave way to a plain of lava rocks sloping gently down to the sea perhaps a hundred yards away.

Scenic, yet horrifying.

The lava rocks had to be the worst part.  So pretty from a distance, or in photographs, but under the harsh light of day, crossing a field of lava was simply arduous.  Rocks lay sloping in every possible direction, some slippery, some sharp, some steady, some shaking, like landmines laid by Sauron himself, or, in this case, Madame Pele, and all determined to throw Sam on her ass and horribly embarrass her in front of her super-hot and much more coordinated girlfriend.

Covering just a few hundred feet on this sort of terrain was a workout worthy of Lara’s favorite gym back in London, only without the blood pumping music, or the sweaty shirtless boys and girls in tight shorts to make things a little more bearable on Sam’s end.

There was a sweaty Lara though – and, yeah, that was nice, the sun peeking through the clouds made the beads of sweat on her neck sparkle - but she’d look a lot nicer without the massive backpack she carried.   She’d also look nicer back on their bed in an air-conditioned resort, hair all disheveled while Sam fed her grapes by hand and attendants waited on them night and day – perhaps cooling them with palm fronds - but again, that went without saying.

Sam really should’ve taken the size of that pack as a sign, but alas, she had been lulled into a false sense of security by Lara’s imploring eyes and dazzling smile. 

Thinking of that smile brought her some comfort, all of which was immediately dispelled when she slid on some gravel and fell on her butt.

Lara continued ahead, not even noticing.   A bit surprising, to be honest, but, hey, she was less getting less jumpy.

This was a good thing.

And she didn’t see Sam embarrass herself.  Also a good thing. 

Or, more likely, she'd heard the sound, quickly diagnosed its likely cause, and was just sparing Sam's feelings.

Sam shook her head.

Out of the woods and back along the coast, an incessant wind made it hard to hear much of anything beyond your own thoughts, and even that was questionable sometimes.  You couldn't hold a conversation out here without yelling, which was unfortunate since it meant Sam was left to rely on her delirious mind for company.  She missed the quieter moments when Lara would point out some geologic feature or a rare bird, or anything, really.  Her voice was lovely, and just to hear it was comfort enough.

Sam sighed, dusted herself off again, adjusted her pack, and did her best to catch up.  Ahead of them, there seemed to be no obvious destination; more promontories, more bays, and more forested ridges.

God, where were they going anyway?  Was the plan to hike all the way around the island or what?

It was a mercy that her own backpack was a great deal lighter than Lara’s, containing just a few canteens of water and the camera she never went anywhere without.

If she was going to suffer, then dammit, she’d better get some decent shots out of it.

And here was a nice view for sure, the stiff wind ripping the tops off the bright blue waves as they went crashing against the rocks, throwing up foamy spray amongst pools of crystal clear water.

Beautiful, except that foamy spray also got in your hair, and the wind blew it onto your camera lens no matter where you pointed it.  Keeping the latter clean was proving difficult, and the former simply impossible.  Sweat thoroughly soaking her shirt, Sam had long ago resigned herself to looking as gross as she felt.

Though the next promontory was still a few minutes off, Lara drew close enough to be heard, not that Sam was complaining.  Whereas Sam probably looked worse than she did after stumbling home from clubs at three in the morning during her UCL days, Lara could be covered in dirt and grime and occasionally other more unpleasant things, yet she’d still be beautiful.

It was something constant in her expression: a desire to soldier on, no matter the obstacle.  Lara radiated life.  You took one look at Lara Croft and were struck by the sensation that the whole world didn’t suck quite so much, that there were things out there worth living for, worth fighting for.

Worth hiking out to the middle of nowhere for.

Well, maybe.

“You holding up?” she asked.

Sam nodded dumbly, it was about all she could manage.

Today Lara had on one of those form-fitting performance tank tops that made up part of her standard gym attire.  Sam had even helped pick it out; and it was presumably engineered by the most eminent perspiration scientists for maximum breathability and moisture wicking, or whatever.  Also, apparently, these sorts of cutting-edge designs needed to be perfectly form-fitting and show off your well-developed muscles.

And also your boobs.

For, you know, _science._

It did make Sam want to shoot a lot of pictures though…

One could never have enough pictures of Lara looking all sweaty and disheveled.

Her eyes focused on a bead of sweat tracing it’s way down Lara's throat.

Mmm.

“Sam?”

She blinked. 

Lara crossed her arms, but smiled.  She knew all of Sam's looks so well.  “Enjoying the view?”

Normally, Sam would have a camera dangling from a strap around her neck, ready to go at a moment’s notice, for when the sun hit the sea just right, for when a flock of exotic birds flew by, or, more often, when Lara looked especially radiant.  Today though, her camera was in her pack, because the chances of her falling flat on her face and breaking it were simply too high.  “Uh, hold that thought.”

She patted the pocket of her shorts and frowned.  “Shit.  Right.  No phone.” 

Lara winced under Sam’s accusing gaze, misunderstanding her, “You wouldn’t get any reception out here anyway, Sam.”

“This is completely different,” she muttered, rolling with it as she settled her pack on the ground with a groan and struggled with the zipper.  “When you’ve got no signal, that sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it.  Here, I’m _voluntarily_ giving up any possibility of a signal.  For all I know, this rocky cove in the middle of nowhere gets great reception.”

Lara rolled her eyes at the growing sarcasm in Sam’s words.  “Oh,” she said when the camera was brought out and aimed at her.  “You wanted to take my picture?”

“Um, duh?” Sam replied.  Jeez, you’d think Lara would be used to that by now.  A day without dozens of new photographs of Lara was like a day without sunshine.  “You look hot today.”  Every day, really.  “And not just because it’s like a million degrees out here.”

There was a faint hint of disbelief in her expression, and honestly, how Lara remained so completely oblivious to her own hotness was a mystery that surpassed Yamatai, Atlantis, and the Bermuda Triangle combined. 

Sam decided to elaborate, “You look good when you’re all sweaty.”

Lara sighed, but smiled as she did so.

Two-dozen shots later and Sam was satisfied, kneeling down and taking a moment to wipe the grime off the lens before putting everything neatly back in the bag.

“Thanks for coming with me, by the way.”

“Of course,” she looked up and noting the strange discomfort in Lara's expression, “Why wouldn’t I want to come with you?”  Sam was generally honest with Lara in a way she never was with, say, her parents, but that didn’t stop her tendency to lie, or at least exaggerate, when finding herself in situations where Lara might question her ability to keep up.

So, sure, Sam would _rather_ be back at the hotel – _with_ Lara - and sure, she was clearly going to die of exhaustion today, but at least she would do it in Lara’s company, so whatevs, right?

And she’d have lots of pics of her hot girlfriend that future archaeologists could look upon and enjoy.

And envy.

Still, it felt like Lara was seeing right through her.  “Did you want to go back?” Lara asked.

Say you’ll do something, and then find a way to do it, that was Sam’s motto.  She shook her head.   “It’s fine,” she said, rising to her weary feet, “Just keep in front of me so I can at least stare at your butt.”

Lara scoffed, but there wasn’t even a hint of a blush on her cheeks.  Several months of dating had effectively weaned her from any embarrassment at Sam’s flirtatious comments, at least when they were completely alone like this.  “Okay,” she said.

…

“You sure you’re okay, Sam?”

‘ _Define okay_ ,’ she thought.  The sun was higher in the still cloudy sky now, though exactly how long they’d been out here Sam couldn’t quite tell.  “Yeah,” she panted, “Okay.  That’s me.  Totally okay.”

Lara stopped.  They were deep in a forest and there was little to be seen beyond the narrow path ahead and a variety of tropical trees and flowers, though she could just barely hear the waves still pounding the distant coast.  Birds were chirping in the canopy, and leaves rustled continuously.

She didn’t say anything further, just kind of frowned like she didn’t believe her.

And maybe it was the exhaustion fogging her brain, but Sam kept getting the feeling that she was being judged here.  Sure, she couldn’t scale a cliff face with nothing but a handaxe, or parachute through a forest canopy, or swim through a river of blood, but she could walk, darn it.

But her legs ached, and her shirt was drenched with sweat, and her lungs cried out for oxygen, and it was a lot harder to cover things like that up with just a smirk and a quip.

Stepping forward, Lara took her hand, and admittedly, that helped a little.  With her thumb, she stroked the skin, and Sam found her eyes closing. 

“Better?”

She nodded.

Then she felt soft lips on the back of that hand.  “Better?” Lara asked again.

“A little,” Sam smiled.

Then, to her complete amazement, Lara pulled that hand toward her and placed it on her breast.

Sam’s eyes popped open.  “Lara,” she laughed, face red, “w- what are you doing?”

“Giving you the strength to go on," she said, expression completely serious.  "Is it working?”

Some time passed while Sam’s mouth opened and closed before she nodded emphatically.  Either Lara was better at reading her than she thought, or Sam had passed into some kind of waking dream.

A really, really good one.

“Good,” she said, dropping her hand.  “Now come on.”

In the interim, Sam had let her backpack slide from her shoulder.  “Uh.  Could you just repeat that so I can get a picture?”

Lara smirked, eyes glinting.  “Later.  Come on.”

Sam stood there for a moment longer, jaw slack, then, hurriedly hoisting her bag, she followed Lara as quickly as she could.

…

“This is as close as we should get.”

They stood together on a black volcanic ridge that projected into the foaming sea.  Sam was just glad for the wind at their backs, despite what the sea spray was doing to her hair.  With how sweaty she was, the breeze was like standing with your back to an air conditioner set at full blast.

Just as noisy too.

Across the narrow bay to the west lay an enormous cave, waves disappearing under its high ceiling just before crashing onto shaded unseen rocks.

“Wow.”   Picturesque didn’t quite cover it.

“It’s a tomb,” Lara said, hint of a smile on her lips.

Now it all made sense.  Lara had decided to mix a little business with pleasure this entire time.  Well, as long as there were no insane cultists involved, Sam was okay with it.  Wouldn’t be the first time, and no, she wasn’t counting Yamatai, actually.  Places like this were like catnip to Lara.  God forbid they drive anywhere in England without Lara spying some British Heritage sign and wanting to stop and check out the half-excavated mound of such and such a king, or the ruins of this Iron Age hillfort that you wouldn't even have noticed if there hadn't been a sign in the first place.

“It’s that where we’re going?”

Surprisingly, Lara shook her head.  “Where we’re going is a little further that way.”  She gestured beyond the cave, but it was hard to tell what exactly she was pointing to.  A ridge of trees on the next promontory blocked the view.

All that was really clear was they’d have to climb the long way around that giant cave to get up there.  Walking along the craggy shore would not be an option.  “ _Lara_.  Define: a little further.”

The way she sort of grimaced in response was so not comforting.  “Two and half miles.”

Sam’s jaw dropped.  Another two and half _miles_?  Which also meant an additional two and half miles just to get back to this spot… a spot which, she might add, was already several miles from their car.

She didn’t have to say anything.   Lara could see it all in Sam's expression.

“It’ll be worth it,” she promised.

What on Earth could possibly make all this exertion worth it?

Sure, she was spending time with Lara – generally a plus, even when the activity was as mind-bendingly dull as waiting for a bus, or going through airport security – but honestly, they could be back at the resort right now, getting served little drinks with umbrellas in them instead of reaffirming why helicopters were the only civilized way to travel.

Lara stopped when she didn’t hear Sam following her.  “Please?”

Yeah, you try resisting Lara when she was making that face.  Not happening.

…

Without her phone, Sam had no idea what time it was when they finally ran out of trail.  Perhaps she could’ve judged by the sun, but it remained steadfastly lost under heavy clouds that continuously rolled in from the sea, blanketing a high forested mountain range rising to their left, and never spitting out more than a few drops of rain - just hanging there, obscuring the blistering sun.

It was at least still daytime.  That was as far as she could figure.

Their surroundings were indeed beautiful though.  Lara had described in detail the process that gave shape to the rocks they were now sheltering behind.  Thousands of years ago, a field of lava oozed slowly over the land in this spot, and as it poured down into the sea, the winds threw it back, creating these needles of white, salt bleached rock, rising ten feet in the air and arching backwards with the wind and the ever-present waves.  Ages ago, Hawaiian weather must have been much the same as today.

Fortunately, that was minus the active volcanism, at least on this particular island.

They still hadn’t seen another soul out here, no hordes of sunbathing tourists with their 2.1 screaming kids, no assholes with their annoying drones; just a couple of boats hanging far out to sea.  The only footprints in the black volcanic sand were their own, mixed in with various birds and unseen crabs.  Lara must’ve spent hours in the library researching this spot, and it wasn’t hard to picture her going through GPS data and satellite maps to find the perfect sheltered cove where no paparazzi would dare to tread.

Lara could and would do things like that.  She was ridiculous.

But only in the best of ways, of course.

While Lara evocatively related the history of their surroundings, Sam let her words soak in as she finally relaxed, heels digging into the sand as they picked at the sandwiches Lara had secretly prepared.   It was maybe half an hour or so before she finally felt somewhat human again.  She’d still need the world’s longest shower when they got back, but Sam was trying really, really hard not to think about the return trip.  If worse came to worse, her girlfriend could carry her home just like old times.

For the moment though, she simply felt blissful.

Lara was good at eliciting such feelings, and soon they fell into a long, but pleasant, silence.  Just Sam and Lara and no distractions.

Yeah, hiking was great when you weren't actually hiking.  So much better now that she wasn't secretly crushing on Lara like she had been in Bulgaria.

“Well, this is romantic,” she said at last.

“That _was_ the idea, Sam.”

The smile on her lips widened.  “Really?”

Lara nodded, still looking out to the sea, arms resting on her bare knees.  “I thought it would be nice to get away from everything.”

“No photographers, you mean?”

“Except for you,” Lara replied.

“Please.  I’m better than any of those losers anyways.”

Lara laughed, bumping their shoulders together.

Yeah, okay, hiking was amazing.  There was something about the outdoors that brought out Lara’s romantic side.

And there was something to be said for the pleasure of sitting side by side with Lara Croft on a beach, knowing you were miles from prying eyes.  Even the helicopter tours didn’t come out this far.

“Hey, you know what would solve all our problems with the paparazzi?”

Lara’s gaze shifted to her. 

“Brain one of them with that handaxe of yours.” 

She grinned, shaking her head while hugging her knees.  “They aren’t _that_ bad.  And if you think that me killing one of them would get them to stop following us, you must not know them very well.”

A fair point.

It sucked sometimes though.  Sure, it was great having the world know that she and Lara were a thing - like, suck it everyone, Sam won the girlfriend Olympics, everyone else can go home – but unfortunately, that fame came with random assholes saying mean things just so Lara would sneer at them and they could snap a picture which would appear in next week’s edition of the Sun with the tagline, _Croft Loses It Again_ , or some other stupid tabloid thing.

Sam could deal with that stuff, no problem, but despite her family’s wealth, in England she was essentially a nobody.  It was Lara they homed in on.

Hmm.  Maybe she’d try to convince Lara to move out here.

There was something to be said for that, but Sam would miss London’s night-life, and Lara would miss all the libraries, and the archaeological sites… and also the Jaffa cakes.

Whatever Lara was thinking about though, it couldn’t have been the paparazzi.  A slight smile graced her lips as she looked out over the sea, freed strands of hair from her ponytail being blown this way and that.

Maybe it was the Jaffa cakes.

Their eyes met and Lara flushed, grinning like an idiot and turning her attention back to the sea.

Okay.  Not the Jaffa cakes.

God, she looked great in this light.  It made Sam want to take a couple thousand pictures… but sometimes it was better just to sit and watch and enjoy the moment.  After Yamatai, how often did Lara look so content?

“Sam?”  Lara looked over, surprised to find Sam still watching her.

“ _Yes?_ ” she drawled, grinning.

Lara snorted, though she still seemed unusually nervous about something.  “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Sam perked up, the towel bunching up as she slid a little closer.  “Really?”  Whatever it was had to be pretty small to fit in Lara’s pack.  Most of the contents were already scattered about them, food, drinks, and the beach towel they were currently sharing.

“You’ll have to shut your eyes though.”

She squinted.  “Seriously?”

“Indulge me?”

“Fine.”  Sam did so, if only to keep from laughing.   She enjoyed indulging Lara, had been doing it all day in fact, and maybe she even enjoyed hiking miles into nowhere with her.

At least in retrospect.

She felt the towel shift as Lara rose, and even with the screaming wind and the crashing waves, Sam could just hear her going through the pack.

More rustling followed, and though Sam tried to form a mental image of what exactly Lara was doing, she couldn’t follow it.  A minute or two passed before the towel shifted again.  Lara tapped her knees, and Sam slid back a little, sitting crossed legged as Lara sat down in front of her, knee to knee.

“Okay.  You can open your eyes now.”

When she did, there was Lara… like _all_ of Lara… like, _oh my god_.

It was the black string bikini Sam had bought for her the week before they left; the one Lara emphatically refused to ever wear, even when Sam offered to drag her to an empty beach at sunrise when there would certainly be no prying eyes.  In fact, she’d worn it exactly once, for roughly thirty seconds, before declaring it ridiculous, and also complaining that it was clearly too small for her.

‘ _Yeah_ ,’ Sam had said through the closed door, ‘ _you say that like those aren’t positives_.’

She swallowed, her voice low, “I thought you threw that away?”

Lara leaned closer.  “When do I ever throw away something you’ve given me?”

Sam blinked.  “Um…”  She blinked again.  Were her eyes getting watery?  So inconvenient, especially when there was so much to take in, like, say, the way Lara’s necklace was dangling tantalizingly in front of her breasts like that.

Also her abs.

And her arms, all glistening with sweat, and dashes of black sand.

_Damn_.

“Speechless?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

Sam nodded.

Lara snorted.  “Also, I’ve got you something.”

She’d been so distracted by all of Lara’s, um, _Lara-ness_ , Sam hadn’t noticed the way her right hand was now resting on her knee, cupping something in the palm.

“I’ve thought about a lot of different places to do this,” she began, fidgeting.

“Um?  Sweetie?  You can wear that bikini anywhere you _want_ ,” Sam interrupted, faking confidence she didn’t quite feel.  Something about Lara’s nervousness reminded her of that night after Yamatai when all those repressed feelings finally came out.  But there was no reason for her to feel so uncomfortable in Sam's presence anymore.  “I promise I won’t object.”

Lara rolled her eyes.  “Not that.”

Oh.  Sam tilted her head in question.

“I mean… should we go to Japan, or somewhere in England?”

“Why would we go to England?” Sam asked, still unsure where this conversation was going, “We _live_ in England, Lara.”  When you had access to a private jet, who would possibly want to vacation in Devon?

She sighed.  “This is going to be incredibly awkward if you say no, but –“  she opened her palm.

Inside, was a plain silver ring.

Sam’s mouth fell open.

“Like I said, it took me a while to come up with the perfect place to do this.  I thought about doing the stereotypical thing, wearing a suit and taking you to a posh London restaurant… getting down on one knee in front of everyone –“

Sam interrupted her, “You - you should do that too!”

“You, um, want me to propose multiple times?” she asked, tilting her head.

And there it was.  Propose.  Oh.  My.  God.  “Yes, please!”

Lara laughed.  “Uh, does that mean you accept?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

She actually breathed a sigh of relief, and Sam kind of wanted to shove her into the water for even thinking that there was anyone on Earth who would possibly say no if _Lara Croft_ proposed to them.  Instead, Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her into her lap, or rather Lara let herself be pulled into Sam’s lap.  She was a rock when she wanted to be.

Rocks certainly didn’t squirm so much when you finally got your hands on them though.

Still, she managed to maintain enough presence of mind to skillfully slide the ring on Sam’s finger even as their lips met in a lingering kiss.

Lara was just great at everything.

And all the exertion of the past few hours did nothing to diminish her kissing abilities either.

Finally, Lara pulled back firmly enough that Sam decided to have mercy on her, stilling her hands but not letting go.

“Honestly…” she breathed, and Sam grinned.  Whether or not she could take on an entire army of cultists single-handed, Lara Croft did have at least one weakness: Sam’s lips.  She rolled her eyes at the smug look on her face.   “I did kind of figure if you came all this way with me, you’d probably say yes.”

“Would make for an awkward hike back if I didn’t,” Sam replied, still smiling even if she was a little breathless.

Lara laughed.  “You know… I didn’t even think of that.”

Sam shoved her.  Lara _knew_ she’d say yes.

She was also pretty sure Lara was faking it when she rubbed her shoulder.  “Hmm.  You’re getting stronger.”

“Guess you’ve been rubbing off on me?”

Lara smiled, then her face turned a very pleasant shade of red when she caught the meaning behind Sam’s toothy grin.   “ _Sam!_ ”

They laughed together, and Sam smiled with the pleasure of having Lara in her lap like this. Overhead, the sun finally broke through the clouds, bathing the beach and Lara's body in bright light, scars and all.  The sight of Lara looking so happy was such a stark contrast to the scars that crossed her flesh.  She'd seen so many horrors, endured so much, yet she could smile like that.  Lara Croft was truly flawless.

And she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Sam.

How bloody amazing was that?

“You know," Sam drawled, "you just might be the first person to ever propose while wearing a swimsuit.”

“God,” Lara sighed.  “I don’t know… it seemed like a good idea at the time?”  When all Sam did was raise an eyebrow, she continued reluctantly, “I can be myself around you.  You’ve stuck by me through my worst moments.”  She swallowed.  “I mean.  It just… doesn’t seem to matter to you that I shut myself in my room sometimes, that I spend hours each day obsessively researching things… that I-“

“It’s okay,” Sam swallowed, grasping her hand.   “I know.”

It seemed like a world away, like something that had happened in a nightmare.  But it was real, all of it.  Yamatai happened.

“That’s just it.  You _know_ , Sam.  And you’re still here.”

“Of course I’m still here.”

“You love me for who I am, so…” she shrugged, “here I am.”

Here she was, indeed.  And each and every one of those innumerable scars only served to make Lara Croft even more beautiful.

“So, all this near nudity is supposed to be symbolic?” Sam asked.

“Kinda?” Lara offered.  “Also, I was fairly sure you wanted to see me in this.”

Understatement of the century.  Lara hadn’t even let her peek while she tried it on in the bathroom the first time.

“And please.  I bet things like this happen in Vegas all the time.”

“Does that mean Elvis will be officiating at our wedding?” Sam asked. 

Lara winced.  “Um… if that’s what you really want?”

“ _Please_ ,” Sam laughed.  “We’ll have a wedding so lavish the entire royal family will be dying for an invitation.”

Again, Lara grimaced.   God, this was too easy.  Sam’s mind was already threatening to come up with a thousand different ideas of what the wedding should be like, but honestly, who could concentrate on things like that when Lara was in your lap, roughly ninety-seven percent naked and everything.

“You know,” Sam began, “you look uncomfortable in that, we should get you out of it immediately.”

Lara laughed against her neck as nimble fingers tickled the skin of her back.  “As you wish.”

Befitting the fact that it could barely be called a swimsuit in the first place, it took only a pull of a string for the top to come undone.  Sam let her lips drift closer to Lara’s ear.  “So…  What kind of wedding do _you_ want?”

She pulled back a little, searching Sam’s eyes.  The question was doubly odd.  Sam tended to be of a sex first, ask questions later kind of person.  “Never really thought about it.  I’ve got all I want already.”

And there was that strange watery sensation in Sam’s eyes again.  She’d be _marrying_ this woman: this adorable, romantic, ridiculous woman.

Just... holy shit.

Lara smiled brightly, stroking her cheek.  “Whatever you decide will be amazing, I’m sure.”

Sam swallowed, her throat dry, “Westminster Abbey it is then.”

She shook her head, biting back another laugh.  Lara knew Sam’s dad had money, but even he and all his business connections wouldn’t be able to swing that.

“We'll also need to choose our outfits," Sam continued, confidence slowly returning. "A lot of fittings will be required: tailors, jewelers, that sort of thing.  We’ll have to shop around: London, Paris, New York,” she wasn’t being completely serious, but it sure was fun to see the mounting horror in Lara’s expression, and feel the tension in her limbs, “Rome, Tokyo, Hong Kong…”

God, she was actually turning green.

Sam trailed off, letting her right hand make comforting movements across Lara's back.

She'd look amazing in a suit _or_ a dress.

Or, thinking on it further, Sam could be the one wearing the suit.

So many possible combinations - well, four possible combinations - but still, it was an important subject and one she’d have to think long and hard on.  Maybe she’d hire a designer or five to help brainstorm ideas.

“I’ll bounce some possibilities off you on the flight home.”

Lara appeared visibly relieved.  That was two weeks away.  Longer if they decided to add the Big Island to their vacations plans.  Sam did kind of want to see the volcano.

From the safety of a helicopter.

No hiking involved.

She'd seen enough fire on Yamatai.

“We _will_ have to hire a photographer though.   I can hardly be expected to do that myself.”

Lara sighed again, but her eyes were sparkling.  “Even if there’s a hundred photographers, as long as you’re there, I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Funny,” Sam replied, letting her hands slide down the muscles of Lara’s back.  “I feel the same way when I think about you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Never written a marriage proposal fic before, but there ya go!
> 
> Btw, I wrote this before I remembered that Sam and Lara had hiked Kilimanjaro according to the comics. Hopefully, Sam’s grumbling commentary still comes off as reasonably in-character. Personally, there are times when I’m hiking where my inner monologue goes something like, ‘I can’t believe I do this for fun, what is wrong with me?’ But once I get to my destination, my mood changes. Well, usually. :P
> 
> Sadly, I don’t have Lara Croft to keep me going through the tough parts. She’s taken.


End file.
